


Loss Ficlet: Canis Familiaris

by missclairebelle



Series: Loss (Ficlets) [21]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missclairebelle/pseuds/missclairebelle
Summary: Jamie Fraser + Dog... need I say more?





	Loss Ficlet: Canis Familiaris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AbbyDebeaupre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyDebeaupre/gifts).



> Blame @abbydebeaupreposts for this one! 
> 
> Her prompt: Can we get a Loss ficlet of Jamie and Claire dog sitting -- Jamie falling hard for the silly thing? Maybe Claire surprising him with a birthday gift..
> 
> Um, yeah. Ask me about my dog, I dare you – I’ll never shut up. This is the fluffiest fluff I’ve ever written. (You figure out whether I’m punning on purpose.)

******Loss (Modern AU)**

**_Canis familiaris_ **

In the two years we had lived together, I had learned that Jamie Fraser was meticulous about certain things.  

He pressed our bedsheets before folding them _just so_. He would then slip the entire perfectly-folded entire set into a pillowcase and stow them in the linen closet.  

He folded his t-shirts straight from the dryer, immediately when the bell at the end of the cycle chimed. He used a board that he kept between the cupboard and the washing machine to make sure they each laid flat, uniform.  

He spared a few minutes every night before bed to use a dustpan and handheld broom along the perimeter of the kitchen collecting invisible crumbs and dust.  He made the bed like he was still in the military – perfect corners tightly sealed.

With those particular traits about cleanliness and order, he could have knocked me over with a feather the evening he came home from work with a puppy.

“Claire?” he called from the entryway.  

“Yes, my love?” I responded, not stopping what I was doing. I had it in my head that I would finish cleaning the kitchen and making make a meal before he got home from work.  So far, I had washed dishes and had only managed to throw a pound of frostbitten chicken breast on the counter to thaw.

“Look,” he said.  I heard his footsteps and used my forearm to push hair off of my forehead as I turned.  I was dripping dishwater on the floor, but I was stunned at what I saw.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, eyebrows raised. A giant ball of red fluff was wiggling in Jamie’s arms and a great red tail thwapping against his stomach.

“I’m not kiddin’, Sassenach; I’m Jamie.”

“And… this is –”

He grinned while he interrupted me and explained, “This is Lobster. And he’s ours for the next twenty-four hours.”

He set the dog, _no_ … _puppy_ , down on the hardwood floor.  It ( _Lobster_ ) took a tentative step and then another before its paws slipped from underneath its fluffy auburn body. The dog stood, shaking, looking back at Jamie over one puffy red shoulder.

“Lobster is a –“

Jamie interrupted – “dog…”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, but Jamie was transfixed on Lobster’s tentativeness and did not see my expression.

“He’s Andrew Wilson’s new pup and he needed someone to care for him tonight.” The puppy let out a low grumble. “So Lobby’s ours for the night.”

“He matches you,” I commented.  

“Clumsy and nervous?” Jamie glanced up at me this time, eyes sparkling, before returning his attention to the puppy.

I rolled my eyes _again_ and set my damp dishcloth on the counter. “Red, doe-eyed, ridiculous.”

“Red, aye, but I am no’ doe-eyed,” he grumbled, bending at the waist to pick Lobster up from the floor. “As for the remainder… we take offense. Aye, Lobby?”

His tone changed entirely when he talked to the dog; it was even sappier than the tone he used with Jenny’s kids.

_Doe-eyed_ : confirmed.  

_Ridiculous_ : maybe.

_Charming_ : absolutely.

“S’okay, ye wee lad. ‘Tis just a silly slippery floor. What a Lobby Lobby Lobster.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” I groaned, snorting a little when I laughed.

The puppy cranked itself around in Jamie’s arms, wiggling and panting. Finally turned around in his human counterpart’s arms, Lobster went for Jamie’s lips with an open mouth and lapping tongue. Jamie adjusted his head and buried his nose deep into the rolls of fat along Lobster’s neck. He gave Lobster a gentle kiss under the chin.

_What the fuck was I watching?_

And a more awkward realization _: why was I suddenly consumed with need for him?_

“So… would you say that you’re a dog person?” I leaned forward on the counter, biting down on my lip.  Jamie’s black pants and grey t-shirt were absolutely coated in fine cinnamon-colored dog fur.

“Jealous of a pup are ye?” He adjusted his hold on Lobster and set him down on the floor once again. This time Lobster just plopped down onto his fluffy bum, his tail skating over the floor and one leg cocked out. Part of his puppy-fat belly, covered in a fluffy strawberry-blonde down, rested on the floor.

“Oh yes, very jealous.”

“Ye’re a good lad, aren’t ye, Lobby?”  Jamie crouched and stroked firm thumbs along the ridge of fur along the top of the puppy’s head.  “She cannae hold a candle to you for cuteness.”

Jamie looked up at me, wearing a wide and beautiful grin that touched his eyes.  My stomach flipped on itself.  Even comparing me disfavorably to a dog made me want him.  

Jamie looked back down at the dog and continued his attentions to the chubby ball of fur.  Lobster couldn’t merely take the gentle pets with grace. Instead, he rolled his blocky head, mouth gaping and searching out a bit of Jamie’s flesh to nibble.  When the puppy found some real estate in which to sink his needle-sharp teeth, Jamie let out a small curse and then grumbled, “ _Ifrinn_ , ye wee bastard.”

But he was smiling and his eyes were glittering as he rubbed the fleshy rise where his thumb met his palm. I was having a hard time not going over the counter to take his face in my hands and bleed all of the breath out of his lungs with my mouth.  

“I dinna figure ye’d like to take Lobby for a walk with me?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

I made it down to the landing before I realized Jamie had only made it down two stairs.  Lobster was sitting on the top step, his huge red paws curled over the edge and his head tilted looking down skeptically.

“C’mon, then. Ye’ve got this, Lob,” Jamie coxed, his voice low and slow.  He leaned forward and ran a single finger over one Lobster’s paws and then patted the first step. “One at a time, aye?”

Jamie tugged the leash just a little and Lobster pulled back with his neck, rearing his head and emitting a high-pitched whine.  Jamie leaned forward, gathering him up in his arms.  When Jamie turned to walk down the stairs, Lobster had his head tucked against a bicep.

“Ye ken ye’re a good lad, Lob.”

I couldn’t help myself and had to bite down on my thumbnail to keep from laughing.

“You’re a silly creature, James Fraser.”

“Aye, aye, I ken,” he grumbled, a blush rising to his cheeks.  I had seen Jamie blush a total five times outside of our bedroom or whispering something profoundly dirty in his ear.

And I intimately knew each of the five times.  

First, when we had visited Lallybroch and Jenny teased him over breakfast that she had heard us making love the night before. ( _We had been mostly quiet, his fingers covering my mouth. He had been the one to break, though, with an expletive and my name, a hard bellowing exclamation that had made us both laugh afterward._ )

Second, the first time I caught him staring at me. ( _The third weekend we spent together, reading together at opposite ends of his couch while rain pounded the window’s in his flat. He was just staring at me, a far-off look on his face._ )

Third, the first time he tried to parallel park with me as a passenger.  ( _He had first missed the spot by a wide margin, then went in sideways, then ending up too far from the curb, then maneuvered into it perfectly, grumbling about how the other vehicles were parked._ )

Fourth, the first time I introduced him as my boyfriend. ( _We_ _bumped into one of my colleagues in a coffee shop._ )

And finally, this moment where he was showing such a sweetness to this helpless little red ball of fluff. ( _Christ, his earnestness with the silly thing. It was intoxicating._ )

Once outside, Jamie directed Lobster to “ _have some manners_ ” and explained the basics: _“ye ken we’ll never impress our lass if ye dinna stop eatin’ yer leash_.”

I couldn’t stop myself from _giggling_ at him, a sound usually reserved as a response to Jamie tickling along my ribs and lower belly.  

But he was truly ridiculous right now and the feeling was the same as a feather-light touch over my sensitive flesh.  

We walked together for a long time, the evening was cool but dry and the streets filled with other couples and their children and dogs.  I noticed the open way women swooned when Jamie crouched to pat Lobby for obeying a firm command to “ _sit_ ” at stoplights. I reveled in the way Jamie shot me a look in those same moments, quietly mouthing “ _yeah, look!”_ to me, ruffling the puppy’s ears and oblivious to the attention of other women.

On the route back home, we agreed that we should just get a takeaway for dinner. I went inside one of our favorite cafés near home while Jamie waited outside with Lobster.

Through the window, I could plainly see that Jamie was trying to make the puppy sit – bending at the waist and pressing the puppy’s cottony bum onto the sidewalk and standing slowly, holding a palm up as if to say “ _stay_.” The puppy refused, leaping off the ground as Jamie rose and jumping up to paw at his jeans.

Jamie’s patience was seemingly endless as he stepped back from the puppy’s jump. He started again. And again. And again.

The elderly owner leaned on the counter and smiled. “I see the two of ye in here all the time – smilin’ and carryin’ on over yer breakfast and lunches. Ye’ve a right cute family there.”

I felt my throat closing as I turned to look at her.

“And this one, well, he takes after his da I see.”

I just nodded, feeling a burn of tears take residence at my lower lash line.

When we got home, Jamie started a movie and we settled into the couch with beers and ate our sandwiches. Lobster sat on the floor, carefully pushed away from the couch by Jamie’s foot every time he tried to take a leap and steal a bite.

When we finished eating, Lobster, not content to make a home in his small bed on the floor at the end of the chaise, sprawled out between us. He stretched his long ruddy body along the seam where Jamie’s thigh met mine and pawed at the side of the couch with his flat, too-big feet. Jamie’s arm was draped over the back of the couch and he played with my hair on and off – tugging, touching, rolling his fingers in the curls.

Halfway through the movie, I excused myself to use the restroom and change into some pajama pants. When I returned, Lobster was on his back, velvety pink tongue hanging out of his mouth and eyes drooping. Jamie’s large hand spanned the puppy’s belly and he was looking down at it with the dopiest expression I’d ever seen — lips parted, tension gone from his face, hair dipping in a swoop over his brow. Lobster let out a deep, rattling sigh when Jamie moved from making long, even strokes up his belly to scratching under his chin.

As quietly as I could, I muted my phone, zoomed, and took a picture. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face. This puppy wasn’t even ours.  

The thoughts along the periphery — _what will watching him with our children do to me?_ ; _he’s beautiful_ — took my breath away.

_Gentle. Patient. Infatuated._

After a few minutes, Jamie interrupted me, looking up from his new companion. “I was startin’ to wonder if ye were goin’ to come back to us.”

I tucked my phone away before settling into the couch on the side opposite of Lobster. I wrapped my arms around Jamie’s waist and tucked my face into his chest when he slipped an arm around my shoulders. He smelled like Jamie and puppy.  I pressed my lips to his t-shirt, right over his heart.

“What do you think about getting one of our own?” I asked.

I heard and felt his sharp intake of breath. “One what?”

He knew precisely what I was asking him, but I decided to tread lightly. “A dog. Our own Lobby.”

“Well, I ken that Andy’d no take kindly to me stealin’ his dog’s name.”

I laughed, tilting my chin slightly to kiss the skin just along the neck of his t-shirt.  

Two weeks later, after searching shelters for a red-headed dog, I stumbled across a russet-colored mutt with floppy ears and a too-big nose.  I had flown across town to adopt him before someone else could scoop him up.

Buffalo Bill hid beneath the passenger seat on the way back to the flat and required no small amount of coaxing to get out of the car when we arrived. On the walk upstairs, he whimpered puffs of humid breath into my neck and clung to me, tiny wolverine-like nails digging into my skin through my blouse.

He sat on the kitchen rug, just watching me make stir fry between bouts of eyeing his water bowl and dry dog food suspiciously. When he started to cry, I picked him up and held him.

“Does my heartbeat remind you of your mama, huh?” I swayed my hips side to side, hoping to soothe him like I would an upset baby.  He gave me a long lick up the neck and I couldn’t help myself from squealing a little. I sighed, “Oh, what a sweet boy.’

“What’s his name?” I heard from behind me.

I turned.  Jamie was standing by the kitchen table, hands crossed over his chest. He was biting down on his lower lip, his chest rising and falling more quickly than usual. I felt a swell of emotion rise from my belly, twisting and climbing into my throat.

“Daddy, this is Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill, this is your daddy.”

Jamie took a few steps forward, placing one hand on the puppy’s trembling back and the other on my neck, his thumb tracing the curve of my ear. “What an awful name for a wee pup.”

I laughed a little, looking down at him. “Yeah, it really is.”

Jamie’s fingers slipped into my hair and he ran his other hand down the length of Buffalo Bill’s back. “Ye ken that we’ve just started our own little family, aye?”

I swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to cry and I leaned forward, needing his mouth. Our teeth knocked together as I breathed “ _yes_ ” into his mouth.


End file.
